Climbing
by aragornwen
Summary: Zeta Annals: Ara sees the Nulls taking shots at the kaminiise form the rafters and decides that she must try it.
1. Chapter 1

Ara'nov sprinted through the door and began rummaging through a cabinet. Nau'l, distracted from her datapad by her sister's abrupt entrance, looked up. "Whatcha doing, lead?"

"Fibercord," Ara answered distractedly. "Mereel." Finding what she had been looking for, she snatched up the coil of fibercord and dashed back out.

"Well, thanks for explaining yourself," Nau'l murmured, going back to her research as her other sister wandered through another doorway.

"Was that Ara?" Bes'la inquired, flicking her blonde hair behind her.

"Mmhmm," Nau'l answered, eyes glued to the screen.

"What was she doing?"

"Getting some cord… She said something about Mereel, too," Nau'l replied vaguely.

Bes'la blinked, thinking, then her mouth formed a silent O. "Uhoh…" she said. "I hope she hasn't done anything stupid yet."

Ara raced back to the tall support she'd seen Mereel and his brothers climbing, but they were nowhere in sight. _Just as well…_ she thought, and slung the cord over her shoulders, stepping back a little to plan her ascent of the column. She began clambering up, getting several meters above the stark white floor before she had to stop and rest momentarily.

"Ara'nov."

The sound of her full name distracted her, and she turned her head, startled, looking down to see one of the Nulls standing below her, arms crossed. It took her a moment to recognize him. _Of course it's the one with no sense of humor…_ "What, Ordo?"

"You're going to fall and kill yourself," he said matter-of-factly. "Come down."

"Am not!" she answered indignantly. "If you can do it, I can too."

"We've done it plenty of times before. You haven't. And I know you haven't," he continued, forestalling her next words. "You're doing it the wrong way."

"Am not! I can do it just as good as you." Ara returned her gaze to the column and climbed a few meters higher.

"Don't be stupid." Ordo was maddeningly calm. "Come down before you seriously injure yourself."

"If you don't quit distracting me, I will fall," she snapped.

He shrugged. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, chancing a glance straight down. She was quite a long way from the floor by now. Reaching up for the next handhold, her boot slipped. An involuntary gasp tore form her throat as she hung by one hand, scrabbling for another foothold. She swore quietly, feeling her fingers slipping, but there was only room on the grip for one hand. Her shoulders complained, protesting the strain, and she bit her lip, making a last-ditch attempt to clutch at another hold.

Bes'la skidded to a halt under the huge arch, watching in horrified silence as her sister plummeted down. Part of her mind was detached enough to wonder where Ara had learned such creative invective as her legs propelled her forward without conscious thought.

When she reached the foot of the soaring support, Ordo was kneeling over her sister. Ara was lying on her back, biting her lip and cradling one arm gingerly. "Let me see," Ordo said, reaching out a hand. Ara shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, and knocked his hand away with her good arm, leaving the other across her chest.

Bes'la sighed and exchanged a glance with Ordo, who scooted back a little. "Ar'ika, where does it hurt?" Bes'la asked soothingly.

Ara slowly sat up, trying to move her arm as little as possible. "Wrist," she croaked, flinching as Bes'la touched it.

Bes'la shook her head. "Oh dear… C'mon. Let's get you home."

To her surprise, Ara shook her head again. "Nuh-uh." Her jaw was set in the way Bes'la recognized all too well; it meant her sister wasn't about to back down. It was the same stubborn front she'd displayed when one of the other commandos had told her she couldn't do something, and Bes'la still remembered how _that_ had ended. For Ara'nov, _can't_ was a challenge. "I'm gonna climb the _talyc_ thing."

"No, you're not." Bes'la tried to put Ma'am's authoritative edge in her voice. "You're coming with me and we're going to see what you've done to yourself now."

"Haven't done anything," Ara muttered sullenly. "Be fine in a minute."

"And if you don't," Bes'la continued, "Ordo and his brothers will come and sit on you until you see sense."

Ordo looked to be taken ever so slightly aback at being included in this argument, but quickly recovered. "We don't need my brothers," he offered. "In her present condition, I could hold her down alone."

Ara scowled blackly at him. "You could not."

Hoping to prevent a showdown, Bes'la quickly diverted her sister's attention. "Right, he probably couldn't, and do you really want to interrupt whatever the rest of them are doing? It's almost mealtime anyway."

Ara looked down at her wrist, which was swelling and beginning to turn an interesting color. "Ow," she said weakly.

"That's right, it hurts now. Let's go get some bacta on it." Bes'la helped her sister to her feet, slipping Ara's good arm over her shoulders and edging toward the door. Ara followed obediently, still holding the swollen wrist close to her chest. Ordo, after watching them for a moment and apparently ascertaining to his satisfaction that Ara would give no further trouble and that Bes'la was able to handle the situation on her own, knelt to recoil the forgotten fibercord before slipping away in another direction.

Nau'l looked up from her research to see a rather pale-faced Ara, half-supported by Bes'la, stagger through the door and collapse into a chair. Biting her lip, Ara leaned her head back and closed her eyes as Bes'la disappeared into another room to fetch the medkit.

"What did you do to yourself, General?" Nau'l asked, spotting the injury.

"That's what I'd like to know," came a new voice. A purple-clad woman appeared through a doorway, Bes'la trailing behind her.

"Oh yeah, and Zam's back," Nau'l added unnecessarily.

"Fell," Ara muttered in answer to the question, not opening her eyes.

"From what?" the woman asked, crossing the room in a few strides and standing above the almost-cringing girl.

"I don't think you're going to get it out of her, Zam," Bes'la commented. "She tried to go rafter-swinging like the Nulls, but never actually got to a rafter."

Zam raised an eyebrow, smiling wryly. "Oh really?"

Bes'la nodded. "And then after she fell on her wrist, she wanted to try it again."

Zam threw back her head and laughed, putting an affectionate hand on Ara's hair. Ara impatiently brushed it away. "I can't turn my back for five minutes, can I? Fix her up, Bes. Practice your field medic skills. I'm sure that's punishment enough. That, and not being able to use the arm…"


	2. Chapter 2

Ara did not take forced inactivity very well. Though her arm was healing fairly quickly, she chafed at not being able to use the wrist. Her sisters knew better than to let her out of their sight for too long, for fear that she would do something unfortunate. She sat, impatiently jiggling one foot as Zam drilled the two other girls in knifework.

"You paying attention, Ara?" the woman called.

Ara twitched and frowned. "Yes," she answered, slightly resentful.

Zam narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "You really should work on improving your skills with your off hand, just in case something like this happens and you can't use the other one."

"Great idea," Ara muttered. "Anything besides sitting here."

"Bit grumpy, are we, Lead?" Bes'la asked, smirking a little.

"Not at all," Ara growled.

Zam switched her knife to her left hand. "All right, let's get started. Ara, if you were desperate, you could hit people with the metal part of the brace, but I wouldn't suggest that. It would probably hurt you more than it hurt the other guy."

Ara briefly considered answering with a sarcastic "No, really?" but decided against it. She was probably coming dangerously close to being a nuisance as it was. Instead, she drew a knife, slightly awkward with her left hand, leaving her right to dangle uselessly at her side. She didn't like the feeling of helplessness, but shrugged it off and faced Zam.

"All right," the woman said. "Now, that last little trick I taught you- try that with your left hand." Ara nodded, making an attempt and failing spectacularly. Zam laughed and corrected her.

It took a while, but finally all three of them could handle the knife tolerably well left-handed. "You're not going to win any fights this way, but you won't be trying to. If you're wounded, then you're trying to get away. You can't do your job if you're dead." Zam checked her chrono and swore quietly.

"Aw. Good job today, girls. I'll… be back around sometime. You know the drill, and Ara? Keep out of trouble."

"Yeah, sure, she tells _me_ to keep out of trouble. Who almost got caught trying to slice the Tipoca City mainframe?"

"You are the one for whom trouble and injury seem to coincide," Nau'l observed. "And _almost_ is the word. She almost got away with it too."

"I will, one of these days," Bes'la added. "We just need a way to keep the grays away from the hall that terminal's in for long enough…"

"Well, Nau'l'ika, sounds like a job for you. My preferred manner of distraction…" Ara's grin bore a faint but unsettling resemblance to that of one of the female Mando trainers.

Bes'la rolled her eyes. "What part of 'keep out of trouble' do you just refuse to comprehend?"

Ara waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, I understand it perfectly well. You just can't tell when I'm kidding."

Bes'la raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Yeah. Mmhmm."

Ara laughed and pushed her sister playfully. She staggered into Nau'l, who squealed and pushed back. The conversation degenerated into a shoving match, which ended when Ara shoulder-charged both of her sisters into the wall. The three of them collapsed into one giggling heap on the floor, Ara wincing as she landed with her injured wrist under her. Bes'la, noticing the flinch, rolled her eyes and pulled her leader to her feet.

"Honestly, Ar'ika, do you ever want to get better? Watch that wrist."

"I am watching it," Ara grumbled.

"Not well enough. Come on."

Ara flexed her wrist, noting the lack of pain with satisfaction. Bes'la, holding the brace, nodded. "It should be all right now."

"Better be. It's been long enough."

Bes'la rolled her eyes, smiling. "Go away and don't hurt it again."

Ara saluted ironically. "Right you are. Go put that brace back in the medkit."

Bes'la rolled her eyes and walked out. Ara waited a moment, the slipped out of the door in search of Ordo. She wouldn't be looking for him except that he still had her fibercord, and she wanted it back.

She glanced up and down the bleached corridors, looking for him, but all was quiet. _Bother._ She stopped for a moment, thinking, then set off at a jog.

"Ordo!" she hissed, and he stopped short to stare at her.

"Wrist better, then?" he commented.

"Yeah," she said shortly. "Where's my cord?"

"You weren't using it at the time. I took it so the Kaminoans didn't find it."

"Of course I wasn't using it! My _talyc_ wrist felt broken. Now where's my cord?"

"Safe."

Ara heaved an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, that helps a lot. Thanks, _ner vod_."

"It's with ours," he added. "I suppose this means you want it back."

She rolled her eyes. "No, _dinii_, I just wanted to make sure it was happy in its new home. Of course I want it back!"

"You'll just break your wrist this time."

"I will not!"

"You will, and the Kaminoans will find you, and that's the last thing any of us wants."

"Breaking my wrist doesn't mean I can't run or fight."

"So you admit that you aren't infallible."

"I never said I was! You're making stuff up and twisting my words."

He shrugged. "I just don't particularly want to see you with a broken neck."

"Touching," she muttered sourly, then jumped, letting out a surprised yelp as Mereel dropped lightly in front of her, blaster slung across his back.

"'_Cuy, vod'ika_," he said lightly. "Ordo, is she after her cord?"

"Yes, I am," Ara interjected, annoyed. "And he won't give it back because I'm apparently completely incompetent, not to be trusted with anything, and will break my neck if not kept under supervision at all times."

Mereel shrugged. "You don't know what you're doing-"

"Well, thanks a lot-"

"-But we can teach you."

Her face brightened. "Really?"

He nodded, grinning. "Why not?"

She matched his grin. "_Kandosii_."

"Meet us back where you fell in the first place tomorrow. I'll bring your cord."

She nodded happily, dashing away. "See you then!"

Ordo watched her go. She would have been, to an outsider, nearly identical to him and his brothers but for their slightly heavier build and her nearly shoulder-length hair. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"She can do it. And if I hadn't said something, she would have annoyed us to death about it until we caved in. _Atin'la vod'ika_. This way, it's on our terms."

Ordo nodded. "Maybe we should still bring cushions, though…"


	3. Chapter 3

"Now, put your right hand on that ledge right there- good… And then your left foot up about knee-height- mmhmm. Now step up and grab my hand."

Ara shifted her weight to her left foot and threw her right leg over the top of the beam Mereel was standing on. Instead of taking his hand, she scrabbled for her own handhold, and he rolled his eyes and grabbed the back of her tunic, helping heave her onto the support. She sat up, looking around below them. The vast canyons of Tipoca City spread out beneath her, a dazzling monochromatic expanse. "So," she said. "When do we get to shoot things?"

Mereel laughed. "Impatient, are we?"

"Me? Never."

"Of course not." He unslung the blaster rifle from his shoulder and squinted down the barrel at an unsuspecting Kaminoan technician, its white coat almost indistinguishable from the pale walls. He squeezed the trigger, and a bolt of plasma ricocheted off the wall next to the distant figure, leaving a small darkened spot.

Ara blinked as the figure jerked back, long neck swiveling to see where the attack had come from. "You missed."

He shook his head. "Nah, I meant to. _Kal'buir_ wouldn't like it if we shot 'em just for kicks." His expression darkened. "Not that they wouldn't deserve it."

Ara nodded, frowning. "Exactly. Why don't we?"

"It'd cause more problems for _Kal'buir_ to have to deal with."

"Aww, just one-"

"No. We may be crazy but we aren't stupid." His tone was final.

"Fine…" she muttered, still not entirely happy. "Just for you."

"Don't I feel special," he answered, then breathed an oath, his eyes alight and following something behind and below Ara. She swiveled awkwardly on the ledge.

"What?"

"Orun Wa," he said with an artless smile, leveling the blaster at the figure far below.

"I want a turn," she said, smirking as he expertly placed the shot what must have been mere centimeters from the geneticist.

"All right, but no shooting _them_." He carefully handed over the rifle, and she cradled it for a moment before aiming it down. Her shot struck the floor on the Kaminoan's other side, not quite as close as Mereel's, but still close enough to make the long-necked figure jump back. She watched through the scope as Orun Wa gestured to a subordinate holding a datapad and the two retreated through a doorway.

Mereel's beatific grin was an ironic contrast to his words. "Not a bad shot. Filthy aiwha bait. He's one of the ones who was going to have us _reconditioned_."

Ara scowled at the shut door, remembering 624, their fourth sister, caught and killed before she even had a name. "One of these days, they'll get what's coming to them, and I just hope I'm on the other end of the blaster when they do."

He snorted. "Blaster? Vibroblade, more like."

"Leave some for me," she said, finger unconsciously tightening on the trigger. The slight movement was not lost on the Null, and he gently pulled the rifle from her hands.

"C'mon. See if you can get down as well as you got up. Down's harder, but at least you can jump the last bit."

Down was harder, mostly because it was difficult to see the next foothold, but with Mereel's instructions, she made it. She jumped the last meter and a half, staggering a little on the landing, and straightened, grinning at him. He smiled back, then transferred his gaze to a point over her head and nodded. She flinched as a hand grasped her shoulder, then relaxed slightly when she saw it was encased in a purple glove.

"You should know better than to encourage her," Zam said, equal parts amused and annoyed.

Mereel smiled, the picture of boyish innocence. "It was preferable to the alternative of letting her go off and try it alone and break her neck."

Ara shrugged the hand off. "Thanks, Mereel. Looks like it's past my bedtime. See you around."

Zam cuffed her gently as they made their way back to the small rooms that were their home. "You're crazy."

"So I've heard," Ara shot back.

Bes'la glanced up from a complicated-looking mass of wires as they entered. "Found her then. Was she where I thought she'd be?"

Zam nodded, then stifled a yawn. "'Scuse me, ladies. It's been a long few days. I'm borrowing a bed." As she headed toward the bunkroom, Bes'la crossed her arms and smirked at her sister.

"Got Mereel to take you climbing then?"

Ara nodded. "And we took potshots at Orun Wa."

"Mmhmm." Bes'la rolled her eyes, then leaned forward. "Take me next time, will you?" she added, grinning.


End file.
